Fate Willing
by Primipassi
Summary: A High School AU fusion that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the very end. A love story that reaches beyond the bounds of just love, and twists even fate to its biding. We're making it up as we go. Fate can't control it this time.
1. Castiel is a Good Liar

_So, this is my first attempt to actually make a fic I'll be able to complete. This one really has me wrapped up, and I actually have the whole plot figured out, this time. It's going to be very...interesting. The ending will surprise you, I promise, and there will be a lot of very good emotion inducing chapters along the way. Now that school is out, I'll be able to write a lot (I mean a lot) more. However, feedback is greatly appreciated. Also, I plan to cross post this to livejournal, but I could really use some help with how the mechanics of that gosh darn site work, so if anyone's free to help me out, I'm offering a reward of any themed oneshot you'd like, as long as it's Supernatural. So, if you're interested, you can send me a message :) _

_Feedback is so very appreciated, and I'd love to hear your comments. I write much quicker when I feel people really enjoy my writing. _

_Also, I, of course, do not own these characters. I wish I did. I really, really wish I did. _

_So, without further ado, I present to you..._

* * *

The sun crept through the cracks of the blinds, casting an orange early morning glow on the lower half of his body. Birds offered a gentle reminder of the morning with lyrical strands of tweets and chirps. On a normal day, his alarm would be blaring right now, loud and piercing. However, as fate had it, this would be anything but a normal day. So, instead of the greeting of that familiar (if not horribly annoying) shrill sound, he got the luxury of waking up from something much less conventional...and many times more...furry. To be more specific, Mr. Murry's deafeningly shrill cry, with the pleasant addition of 'you were supposed to feed me ten minutes ago, you incompetent asshole, so I will plot my revenge accordingly as I scratch nice little patterns into your door'.

Needless to say, he was already not having the best of mornings. He shoved off the covers, and sat up, squinting at the clock. He'd definitely turned it on last night. He knew he had. Then he remembered. Gabriel had come home from college for a month break between semesters last night. Meaning, of course, Castiel would have to deal with his brother's shenanigans.

Castiel stood up from his bed, all bristling annoyance, the sleepiness having been drained away from him many seconds ago. The first thing that found its way past his lips was in a kind of other-worldly tone that would have anyone but his older brother cowering in fear,

"Gabriel!"

He was rewarded with the sound of hysterical laughter somewhere downstairs. _Really, Gabriel, you had to choose the alarm?_

He sighed in defeat, willing any residual anger to fade away. He'd have to drive to school today; by the time he'd get ready, he would miss his bus, and rushing was futile for him, because he'd undoubtedly forget something important, and he really didn't need any extra stress.

Glanced down quickly to make sure he was wearing pants. He'd been really tired last night, and he wasn't sure exactly what had happened after he'd set his alarm. He must have pulled on his old grey sweat pants, and just left his over sized tee-shirt on.

He plodded out of his room, Mr. Murry weaving through his legs as he walked, almost tripping him twice. When Castiel reached the bottom of the stairs, Gabriel popped up from the living room couch, where it appeared he'd been watching football re runs,

"Sorry, bro, I had to," he apologized, though he obviously wasn't too sorry, judging from the playful smirk that stretched across his face. If Gabriel weren't his brother, and if he hadn't, admittedly, missed even his pranks, Castiel probably would have been yelling at him right now. However, after a second of listless silence, Castiel shuffled over to his brother, giving him that awkward hug he was famous for. Gabriel must have had some kind of candy in his mouth, because he could feel it poking against his neck as his brother returned the hug much more naturally,

"I am glad you're back, Gabriel," Castiel breathed out against Gabriel's brown-blonde hair, making the little bits that hung lower than the rest flutter like tiny wings. Gabriel laughed airily,

"Yeah, Cassie, I missed you too," he replied around his...Castiel guessed a Jolly Rancher, from what he could feel against his neck. Probably watermelon. Gabriel had always loved watermelon and green apple Jolly Ranchers the most. When they were young, Castiel seven, and Gabriel twelve, they had gone to the local fair together, since their father was too busy with work to take them. Gabriel, already being a huge flirt when it came to girls despite his young age, got the bright idea to walk up to a high school girl and ask her if she wanted to share his apple on a stick. Castiel still wasn't sure whether it was the mere suggestion, the words his brother decided to stress, or the suggestive wink he'd added at the end, but something must have set the girl off, because suddenly, Gabriel had a face full of apple and melted caramel. He hadn't eaten anything with the word 'apple' in it since.

That memory always kept him in check when it came to his brother – despite his playful demeanor, and no care attitude, Gabriel was still sensitive. He'd always been really good at hiding it, though, keeping it all together, even when...Castiel cleared his throat, finally pulling away from the hug that he realized had lasted much too long while he was reminiscing. Gabriel, luckily, didn't appear too bothered by it, and gave Castiel a tired smile,

"I've gotta say, I'm not too excited to be back here, though," he admitted, and Castiel looked off to the side awkwardly, not particularly wanting to think about what he knew that meant,

"I know," he said simply, hoping Gabriel would get the message, and not ask any questions. Everything fell silent for a second, but then Gabriel laughed again, cracking the dense shell of tension that had solidified around them,

"Well, what's for breakfast, then?" he asked, and Castiel felt the pressure immediately evaporate, glancing at Gabriel with a tiny smile,

"I could make you an omelet," Castiel suggested, and Gabriel eyed him,

"You'd better add sugar to it," he warned with a twinkle in his eye, and Castiel feigned a huff of annoyance,

"Of course," he agreed, and Gabriel's smile grew larger.

Castiel never quite understood his older brother's love for sweets – which bordered on the side of obsessive, and was no doubt terribly unhealthy. It was so much a part of who Gabriel was, though, and Castiel knew without those sweets, he wouldn't be quite the same. In a way, he guessed, the sweets were like his security blanket, like the comfort from a life of numerous hardships. Castiel wondered idly what his security blanket was as he poured some food into Mr. Murry's food bowl (to which the gray monster allotted him all but a nanosecond to pull away before shoving his whiskered face into it, pushing Castiel's hand rudely out of the way).

Castiel wandered towards the fridge, grabbing some assorted vegetables and eggs. He began to cook, humming quietly as the stove began to heat up the kitchen, and the smell of breakfast filled the entire room.

Gabriel had returned to watch the game in the other room, and Castiel felt a smile tug at his lips as he heard his brother shout at the TV a couple times. He'd missed mornings like this. He'd missed them a lot. He was used to being by himself, yes, and he dealt with it very well, but he still missed company.

Sometimes, he'd feel an awful pit open in his stomach, like he was the last thing on earth, like the bottom had dropped out from underneath him, and everything was hollow. Loneliness was its name, and it was a demon Castiel battled on a daily basis. He didn't complain, though. He couldn't bring himself to. He had enough guilt weighing on his shoulders, and he didn't need more.

Sometimes, he'd think to call one of his brothers to soothe that sharp emptiness, if only slightly. He would stop himself short, though, telling himself he really shouldn't. Telling himself that they were busy, and he'd only be bothering them.

That wasn't the truth, though, and Castiel knew it. It was something much deeper - something rooted in the very essence of who he was - like a weed that had been planted inside of him, its roots tearing their way through to his hidden depths and wrapping themselves around it, taunting his every thought.

He was good at ignoring that, though. He was good at lying, too. That was something else he did, not only to everyone around him, but to himself, too. Periodically, he would almost believe his own lies were the truth, and would be allowed a moment of guiltless bliss. It didn't last long, and the taunting would return. His own little demon, inside his own head. Always there, always nagging.

He wasn't that jaded, though. He took his joys where he could get them.

Storms, in particular, were one of the things he found happiness in. He loved to read. He loved to cook. He loved music, too.

And though it was slightly odd, sometimes he'd just sit and watch other people having fun, and before he knew it, he'd be smiling again.

Like the two kids across the street, rolling around and play fighting in the grass, or writing on the sidewalk with chalk, or whispering secrets in each other's ears and giggling. Castiel would watch on, smiling, feeling an dejected kind of happiness. The kind that comes along with jealousy, a longing to feel their joy; feel that connected to someone.

Of his three brothers, Gabriel was the one he was closest to. But even then, it wasn't that kind of a connection. Yes, he loved Gabriel, very much, but he kept his feelings almost instinctively at arms length, never allowing them the chance to sink in.

He thought too much. That was the human condition. Allow it any freedom, and it goes off the deep end.

Castiel sighed, pulling his thoughts away from the lecherous darkness, and back into the moment.

There was an almost completed omelet in front of him, and he carefully flipped it over to check for doneness. It was burnt slightly, but that was because of the sugar, and wouldn't really effect the taste much.

He pulled a plate out of the cup-board and used a spatula to get the omelet to its destination all in one piece. Once that was accomplished, he set about cleaning up the kitchen, and putting the dishes in the dishwasher, calling for his brother to come and eat his breakfast. Gabriel didn't waste any time digging into his food, and was already half way done when Castiel sat down across from him. Castiel shook his head, the sight reminding his of Mr. Murry's frenzy not more than five minutes ago.

Gabriel glanced up at him, "Aren't ya going to eat something?" he asked around a mouthful of food, sounding half curious, and half worried. Castiel shifted, feeling slightly ashamed, but shook his head from right to left twice. Gabriel scrunched up his nose,

"Do you ever even eat?" Gabriel asked, almost to himself, though Castiel didn't quite pick up on that, and he responded with a noise of confusion,

"Of course I do. I need sustenance to survive," his eye brows were drawn together. _That was a very strange question. _Gabriel snorted, and shook his head as he ate, obviously amused, though at what, Castiel couldn't wrap his mind around. He continued to stare at Gabriel with blank confusion until he finished the last of his omelet, and burped, to which Castiel cringed. Gabriel smirked up at Castiel, before standing up to put his plate in the dishwasher with the rest of the dirty dishes.

Castiel watched him from the corner of his eye, not turning his head. Gabriel coughed, and turned around after closing the dishwasher again,

"Cassie, I know you usually keep to yourself, but you should really…I don't know, go out and make some friends," Gabriel suggested carefully. He quickly regretted his words, though, as Castiel's shoulders tensed, and a sense annoyance seeped from his pores, tainting the room like an invisible, poisonous fog,

"I don't need to make friends," Castiel stated, not turning around for fear of what his brother may see in his eyes. A little voice in the back of his head poked fun at him, _You mean to say no one wants to be friends with a pathetic, broken loser like you. _

Castiel gritted his teeth, and tried to push the words as far away as he could. Gabriel had stopped completely, and was staring at Castiel's back in pity,

"Okay, okay, forget I said anything," he answered meekly, sighing, and leaving his younger brother to calm down for a moment. He didn't have any way of knowing that what Castiel needed most was someone to stay with him, even when he wasn't in control. Of course, Castiel didn't know that either, so it was a catch twenty two.

Castiel heard him say something along the lines of 'lighten up' as he ambled out of the kitchen, and it made Castiel bristle. _How could I lighten up? With everything that's happened, you expect me to be completely happy? You weren't even here. You don't even know what I had to deal with. _

Castiel bit his lip, wishing away the sudden need to scream at his older brother. It wasn't Gabriel's fault. Castiel kept everything that had happened to himself. Kept it all inside. Gabriel had no way of knowing what had happened in the last six months. He always gave his older brother the same neutral answers when he'd call asking how he was, and what he'd been doing. Castiel was a good liar, after all.

When the anger had finally subsided, Castiel wandered past the living room, flashing the back of his brother's head a sorrowful glance, before turning to head back up the stairs and to the bathroom. He locked the door behind him, and stared at himself in the mirror. He looked away quickly, though, knowing the longer he looked, the more flaws he'd find to hate, even if there weren't any.

He stripped, and stepped into the shower, allowing himself to be lost in the steady stream of warm water. It felt nice, and he wanted to be in there for hours. He couldn't, though, and so he washed his hair and body quickly, before stepping back out, and drying off. He couldn't afford to miss class, and so he sauntered to his room, towel wrapped snuggly around his waist as he searched his drawers for his most comfortable outfit.

_Only a few more months, and then you can leave high school and go away to college _he assured himself. The voice came back to retort _If you make it that long. _It snickered at him, and he ignored it, finding an old pair of khaki pants and a white button-up shirt. He pulled them on, almost falling over in the process, before realizing he'd forgotten underwear, and having to start all over again. Two minutes later, he was grasping for his blue tie in an adjacent drawer.

He tied it on, and fiddled with it, confused and annoyed. If he'd had a mom, this wouldn't be a problem. He felt his chest ache, _Mom. _And he swallowed, fingers falling from the tie, efforts forfeited. He grabbed his backpack, and threw it over his shoulder, feeling a bit better now that he was clean and dressed. As he headed back down the stairs he saw Gabriel had now produced a huge bowl of Twizzlers. Castiel rolled his eyes, and smiled the smallest of smiles,

"I am leaving now, Gabriel," he informed his older brother once he reached the bottom of the stairs. Gabriel turned, and smiled at him,

"Have fun, little bro," he replied, and Castiel nodded. Of course, he knew he wouldn't have fun. He didn't have friends. In fact, it was like he was completely invisible to the rest of the people at his school. He almost wondered if he was, though he wasn't complaining, since he didn't have particularly good people skills. Other than his brothers, and occasionally the guy at the super market, Castiel really didn't interact with anyone. Ever.

Castiel walked out into the cool morning breeze, making his way over towards his old pickup truck. He hopped in, and turned on the ignition, the engine jumping to life. Castiel threw his back pack into the back seat, and sighed, mentally preparing himself for the day. Sometimes, he felt it would almost be nicer to be bullied than to be completely ignored. At least then you knew you were really alive. Castiel slowly began to back out of the driveway, checking for cars, as he always did.

But today wasn't going to be normal. Today wasn't fated to go as per usual.

Suddenly, Castiel was hit with a tidal wave of splitting pain if his head, and his hands flew from the wheel to grip the offending area instinctively. He yelled out in pain, and didn't notice that he was now idling in the middle of the street. He didn't notice the screech of brakes, or the loud cursing from a vaguely familiar voice. Didn't notice that someone getting out of their car and rushing around to his door, angry tone morphing into concerned yells.

He did feel something, though. Something like a bizarre flicker of hope in the corner of his soul.


	2. Damn it, Winchester!

_My apologies, this chapter is rather short, but I think you'll enjoy it. Also, since it's so short, the next chapter will be coming a lot sooner, meaning either tonight, or tomorrow. There's bits of humor thrown in, mainly because I just can't stay completely serious with the writing, and also because my goal is not to send you into a deep depression. Also, I forgot to mention in the notes last chapter, but the description of the story? Yeah, well, let's just say I was feeling like going for something less conventional. Make it more interesting. Did it work? _

_Anyway, you will not believe what I had named Castiel's Cat when I first started writing this a couple weeks ago. I'd, for some bizarre reason, named him 'Mr. Yaygi Meister'. I must have been sleepy, or something, because who in their right mind would...never mind. I'm going to shut up now. :X_

_Well, as always feedback is very much appreciated, and I want to thank all of you lovely readers who have added this story to your alerts! _

_**Disclaimer:** If I owned the show, then I wouldn't be writing this, I'd be handing it to Jensen, Misha, and Jared. ;)_

* * *

"See ya, Sammy! I'll meet you at lunch!" Dean called out from the front door. Sam was in the kitchen, finishing up his bowl of cereal. Kashi cereal, actually. He couldn't believe his little brother was becoming a little health nut monster, it was kind of annoying. He put up with it, though, since he loved him. That's what you do for family.

He vaguely wondered, though, if his little brother was attempting to make a good impression on the girl that lived down the street, Jess. He'd go on and on about her sometimes - her pretty hair, her bright eyes - if Dean didn't know better, he'd say his little brother was lucky in love.

The two love birds started walking to school together everyday a couple of weeks ago, a change which Dean had greeted with mixed feelings. On a good note, he could now listen to his music on his way to school as loud as he wanted. However, he honestly missed having the presence of someone with him, even if Sam did annoy him with his whining about his tastes in music.

He'd never admit to it, though, and the one time Sam brought it up, Dean had shut down his brother's concern with that provident annoyance that he always uses to mask his feelings. He tried not to lean his burdens on his brother.

"Don't call me Sammy, Dean, it makes me sound like a little kid!" came Sam's indignant reply from the kitchen, and Dean rolled his eyes. Sam would always be a kid to him, even when they were old and grey. Though he tried not to think about becoming old and grey, since the idea kind of scared him.

Dean made his way to the Impala. The Impala, his baby, was part of the family. There were so many memories that Dean had of this car, and he wouldn't trade them for anything.

He pat the top of it, a small affectionate smile gracing his lips, before opening the door and easing himself into it. He was about to fish the keys out from the pocket of his leather vest when Sam came running out from the front door, a look of worry planted on his youthful face. Dean was at immediate attention, opening the car door and leaning out just enough to make eye contact with Sam,

"What?" he asked, knowing it must be important if his little brother's pensive face had anything to say about it,

"I forgot to tell you, Destin Road is closed for construction today, said so on this morning's news," Dean rolled his eyes - his brother had also become a news nerd in the last few months. It was killing him, listening to his brother rave on and on about all these grave occurrences and current events while eating their dinner, or playing a game. How his brother kept such a light heart was a mystery to him.

Although he supposed this was one of the pros of Sam's new interest, granted that Destin Road was the one he took to get to the High School everyday. It was a straight, ten minute drive from their house to the school from here, but it looked like today he was going to have to take the long way. Volonte Street veered to the right of Destin Road, and it would end up taking an extra ten minutes to get to school on said street. It was a much more scenic path, and were Dean not such a practical person, he probably would take that street everyday.

He was practical, though, and wasn't the type to 'stop and smell the flowers', so to speak. Especially not when the promise of something that smelled many times more glorious was awaiting him.

Dean grunted. _Shit, I forgot. _

"Crap, it looks like I'll have to skip Jo's apple pie, then," was his disappointed reply. He'd really been looking forward to that pie. Jo was bringing it in this morning for her foods class, and had promised to give Dean the first try before school started this morning. Dean never passed up an offering of pie, but it looked like he didn't really have a choice in this. He'd just have to cross his fingers and hope there would be some left over.

Sam cast a deflated Dean an amused glance from his place in front of the car,

"Couldn't you just eat cake, or something?" he asked, and Dean glared at him sharply,

"No way, it's not the same thing!" he argued, with a look on his face like he'd just seen the flying pop tart cat. Sam one time had shown him this video of something called a 'Nyan Cat' on the computer, and his reaction had had Sam literally rolling on the ground laughing for minutes,

_After twenty seconds of blatant, wide eyed, slack jawed staring, Dean's eye twitched, 'Sam, why is that naked rat cat thing shitting rainbows out of its' ass?' _

Ever since that experience, that singular facial expression had forever been deemed 'the flying pop tart cat' look.

Sam shook his head,

"Whatever, I'll see you at lunch," he conceded, turning and walking back into the house. Dean glared at Sam's back until his shaggy hair and cargo pants disappeared inside. Dean huffed in annoyance, _Pie is not cake, Sammy. Pie is so much more than cake. _

With a final sigh, Dean closed the door once more, and started up the car, thankful that at least the familiar roar of the Impala hadn't changed at all. He pulled out of the drive way, and drove off down the road, the sound of AC/DC fading along with the motor as the Impala got further and further from the house.

Sam put the curtain back in its place and chuckled, shaking his head as he wandered back to his seat in the kitchen,

"Idiot, you should've stopped calling me Sammy the third time I'd asked you not to," he mused under his breath as he ate the last of his Kashi cereal, though now it was beginning to turn mushy.

Somewhere, up in the highest of places, Balthazar, who'd been resting quite comfortably in his wavelength of celestial intent, was rudely interrupted from his slumber by a scream,

"Damn it, Winchester!"

Now what in the Glowing Garrison could have Fate's panties in such a twist?

* * *

_Surprise! I'm back to annoy you all at the end of the chapter! :D _

_**Balthazar:** Was it really neccesary to wake me up? I was dreaming about drinking fine wines. _

_**Me:** Balthazar, I brought you back to life, don't complain. _

_**Balthazar:** Yeah, cheers to you, and all that good stuff. But I'm still STUCK IN THE WAVELENGTH OF CELESTIAL INTENT and would really appreciate possibly STRETCHING my legs, or something. _

_**Me:** You mean, something like heading to the local wine store and wreaking havoc among nice, innocent people for a glass of the most expensive wine they own, even though you have no identification that proves you're old enough? _

_**Balthazar:** Oh please, I look old enoug- wait, are you trying to get me to say I look old?_

_**Me:** Maybe. *troll face*_

_On another note, I don't know if you caught the** irony with the street names** (My only hint is that they need to be translated back to English - they're in a different language), but if you do figure it out, there will be many cookies involved for your amazing soul. _

_I'd better get out of here before the authors notes become longer than the actual chapter. Until next time! _


End file.
